Starlet's Web (The Starlet Series, #1) Read Free

large blue-green eyes, thin eyebrows, long eyelashes, large lips, smooth pale skin, and thick auburn hair. I resembled both of them and neither one. Mostly, I looked tired in the photo because I just wrapped The Beautiful Outcast, a movie about Virginia Woolf’s difficulty dealing with her mother’s sudden death when she was thirteen and her mental collapse after the death of her father.
    I visited Grandma at her ranch after our wrap party because I was so depressed after making that movie. I stayed for over two months and did all my schoolwork online. I rode my horse every day and learned how to fly a plane. I escaped public scrutiny. I learned to ignore tweets and never check Facebook. I was complete that summer.
    While I waited for Manuel outside I thought about my recent award-winning performance for Jefferson’s Muse . I did a good job with the script and with emoting. I nailed the character. Mom and her producer buddies created the character for me: a ‘not really black but not white’ slave.
    * * * * *
    Seeing Manuel approach on his bicycle made my body sparkle from the inside out and diminished my sullenness. Manuel was tall, like his Latino father, and muscular. I never asked his specs, but I figured he was 6’1” and 185 pounds. He had high cheekbones, perfect lips, a thin, straight nose, short black hair, and creamy skin like that of cappuccino ice cream—his skin was not white but not dark either. He was lighter than me. His eyes were his most attractive feature, with impossibly long, black eyelashes veiling his rich coffee-colored eyes. The color of his iris was light enough to express all of his emotions to me with one glance but dark enough to hide those same emotions from strangers. I loved being one of the people who held the key to unlock all of his thoughts when I peeked into his soul.
    An acute pain crippled me as soon as I saw his eyes when he removed his helmet and sunglasses. I couldn’t help loving Manuel but couldn’t possibly tell him that I loved him in case he didn’t feel the same way about me. I could no longer pretend that my feelings were only platonic. I wanted him desperately. My eyes watered as I accepted that Evan was right to dump me. It wasn’t fair to him that I loved Manuel so completely.
    Manuel hugged me immediately, “I’m sorry. It’s okay.”
    â€œAlready I feel better just by seeing you. But also worse.” I explained, “I feel like I am Muse, a slave to the gods of Hollywood.”
    â€œFeeling bitter? It’s just like last time when you said you were a fly in the spider’s web.” Manuel put his arm around me as we walked through the front gate. “Remember, you have a great life and can quit soon. It’s just several hours of acting tonight for the Globes. You’ll leave unscarred. “This too shall pass,” as your mom says.”
    â€œOh, I hate that saying and feel very scarred right now.” I hugged him again and relaxed. Ever since we were kids, Manuel’s hugs pushed out all my worries.
    I stopped crying and explained, “The cheating isn’t true. Evan would never do that for real. It’s to balance our brands, make women like me again and give him freedom to be a total heartthrob. But Evan really did dump me. It’s over.”
    Unlike industry people, Manuel didn’t use worthless words.  He kissed my forehead and walked to the outdoor love seat. He was so unusual in my world—humble, content, considerate, affectionate, loving, and practical. He floated between the two social classes in Santa Monica: the high-net-worth families and the low-cash-flow households. His mom owned an apartment building worth several million dollars so his family had high net worth. But they lived on his dad’s salary as a driver for a delivery company. Manuel’s spending money came from working his restaurant job. He grounded me.
    Manuel stood unbalanced in